


Castiel, My Guardian Dear

by foxthefanboi



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Developing Relationship, Forbidden Love, M/M, Minor Ruby/Sam Winchester, POV Sam Winchester, Season/Series 04, Supportive Dean Winchester, Wing Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:33:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28030206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxthefanboi/pseuds/foxthefanboi
Summary: Sam meets his brother's angel Castiel and feels an immediate, soul-deep connection that he can't explain.
Relationships: Castiel/Sam Winchester
Comments: 6
Kudos: 61





	Castiel, My Guardian Dear

**Author's Note:**

> [This](https://mcrdred.tumblr.com/post/635674631795310592/could-not-get-this-post-out-of-my-head-obsessed) is the image I used as inspiration for Castiel's wings.
> 
> This was a gift for ladylilithprime for the Sastiel New Year Gift Exchange hosted by sastielcreationschallenge ([tumblr post](https://sastielcreationschallenge.tumblr.com/post/638973911424450560/happy-new-year-ladylilithprime-castiel-my))

This is an  _ angel _ . Right here in front of Sam. There’s someone else in their room too, a stranger staring out the window—human, or human-like, at least—but right in front of him is his brother’s angel Castiel.

_ Castiel, the angel, _ Dean had said, and Sam doesn’t have any trouble believing it’s true. Castiel appears human except for the set of enormous wings on his back. They’re an iridescent black, with bright shimmers of every color shining where the light hits them at the right angle. They’re beautiful, just like the man they belong to.

“Oh my god,” Sam says, and then realizes he’s using the Lord’s name in vain right in front of one of His children. “Er, uh, I didn’t mean to—sorry. It’s an honor, really, I, I’ve heard a lot about you.” 

Sam holds out a hand for Castiel to shake, still trying and failing not to stare at Castiel’s wings. Castiel tilts his head slightly as he watches Sam’s gaze running over his wings, and Sam’s eyes snap immediately to Castiel’s. Maybe it’s rude to look at an angel’s wings, or to mention them. Sam doesn’t know angel etiquette, but Dean hadn’t said anything about the wings, so maybe Sam should just follow his lead.

Sam shakes his hand a little bit to reemphasize that Castiel should shake it, and Castiel finally grasps Sam’s hand.

As soon as their hands touch, there’s an immediate spark that takes the breath out of Sam. It feels like there’s a volt of electricity, traveling from where his skin is touching Castiel’s to all of his nerve endings.

Castiel’s piercing blue eyes widen just slightly as they lock with Sam’s, and his wings stretch out seemingly unconsciously, expanding to fill almost half the width of the room, each wing nearly six feet across.

“Sam Winchester,” Castiel says, recomposing himself. He puts his other hand on top of Sam’s. The shock that had been there a moment ago is beginning to be replaced with a comfortable warmth throughout his body. “The boy with the demon blood.”

The warmth immediately disappears. He’d almost forgotten about that part of him. He shouldn’t have, but he did. All the faith he had in God, in these angels—he realizes that the faith can’t be returned. Not with what he is.

  * • ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••



“I wonder why Uriel didn’t have wings,” Sam says, as they’re on their way to the high school. They’d dropped the topic of angels a few minutes ago after Sam had expressed his disappointment in them, but still, it was bugging him.

“What do you mean?”

“Castiel had those huge black wings,” Sam said. “Uriel didn’t have any, but he’s an angel too.”

Dean throws him a confused glance. “Neither of them had wings. Not real, flesh-and-blood wings that we could’ve seen, anyway.”

“I don’t know how you could’ve missed them, Dean. Black, feathery, each one about six feet long? Not ringing a bell?”

“Are you high or something? Are you having feverish delusions?” Dean reaches out a hand to put on Sam’s forehead, and Sam slaps it away.

“So you’re telling me you didn’t see any wings?”

“No.”

Sam feels uneasy. This is just something else wrong with him. Is it the demon blood? Making him see things that Dean can’t?

“Guess I must’ve been imagining things,” Sam says, staring out the window.

  * • ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••



Sam didn’t get to see Castiel again, even after they’d finished the hunt. Dean did, though. Sam felt a sharp stab of jealousy hearing Dean tell him that. But Dean also told him that the angels’ orders were to let Dean choose what to do, and that he couldn’t go into it, but maybe, just  _ maybe _ , Castiel might not be such an irredeemable dick, after all.

It’s not hard for Sam to believe that. Initially he’d been shocked by Castiel’s insistence on the smiting of an entire town— _ It’s the lives of one thousand against the lives of six billion _ —but with what Dean told him, he’s sure there’s something about Castiel that he just doesn’t know yet.

Mostly, Sam just wants to see Castiel. He’s not sure why. He comes up with a hundred reasons why having Dean somehow summon Castiel would be a good idea. Maybe Castiel could tell them how many more seals have been broken. Or maybe he had some more key information to pass along. Or maybe he would just want to check in on the human he’d saved, make sure that Dean was still surviving and getting along okay. Every day he thinks of a new excuse—he can’t get Castiel out of his mind.

But he’s also feeling uneasy. He feels watched as he and Dean go onto their next hunt, and the one after that. He keeps looking behind him, but every time he does, the presence he feels there disappears as soon as his gaze passes over it. Maybe it’s nothing, just paranoia, but maybe, there’s something more. He thinks about what Uriel had said the last time they’d met:  _ the second you become more trouble than you’re worth, one word… and I will turn you to dust. _ It’s kept him on alert, at least, even though he knows he wouldn’t stand a chance against an angel. 

He’s in his motel room cleaning a gun when he feels a presence again. He doesn’t turn around this time. “I know you’re there,” he says. Worth a shot.

A throat clears and Sam does turn around this time.

Sam inhales sharply. It’s him. On the other side of the room. Suit and trench coat and messy hair and his wings folded against his back.

Sam gets to his feet. “Castiel.” He’d been expecting an enemy, or at least a distrusted ally, but he hadn’t expected this. “Have you been the one following me?”

Castiel doesn’t say anything.

A thought strikes him. “It’s not... It’s not because you think I’m still using my powers, is it?”

“No,” Castiel says, and doesn’t elaborate. He approaches Sam. Even though Sam has six inches on him, there’s something about Castiel’s demeanor—even aside from the wings—that makes him seem much more imposing. Castiel stops in front of Sam. “There’s… something about you.”

Sam laughs bitterly and looks away. “Yeah, I know. The demon blood.”

Castiel furrows his brow. “No, it’s…” He pauses, then stretches out his wings. “Do you see these?” 

Sam nods. 

“There’s only one human that would be able to see my wings,” Castiel says, his eyes locked firmly with Sam’s.

“Okay,” Sam says, uneasy.

Castiel narrows his eyes slightly. He opens his mouth like he’s about to speak, then closes it and starts to turn away. “Never mind, I shouldn’t—“

“Wait,” Sam says, grabbing Castiel’s arm. “You can’t just say something like that and leave. Tell me.”

Castiel hesitantly turns back to Sam, his eyes quickly finding Sam’s again. “You’re…” he says. “You’re my soulmate.”

The words don’t quite register. “What?” Sam says, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Castiel reaches up slowly, almost reverently, and his hand comes to rest on the side of Sam’s face. There it is again. The electric rush, all through his body, slowly settling into a permeating warmth. He closes his eyes and breathes in deep, hyperaware of Castiel’s soft touch against his skin.

“You’re my soulmate, and I’m yours.”

Sam opens his eyes and meets Castiel’s, feeling almost dizzy at the words, at the contact and proximity, and Castiel drops his hand. Almost immediately, Sam misses his touch.

He blinks a few times, trying to focus, to think. “That doesn’t make sense,” he says, though what Castiel said feels right, somehow. “We’re just… fundamentally incompatible. I have demon blood in me, and you’re an angel.”

Cas shakes his head. “We’re not incompatible, not because of that.”

“I don’t understand,” Sam says. Castiel had defined him by his link to the demons from the moment they met. But now he’s saying it doesn’t matter?

“This bond would have existed since you were born, since before the demon blood, even though neither of us knew it. Your link to the demons doesn’t define you. And it doesn’t define your relationships.” Sam doesn’t say anything, so Castiel takes a deep breath and continues. “Sam, I’ve… I’ve been following you because I’m feeling something new since I met you. A lot of new things. Things I’m trying to understand.”

_ Something new _ . Sam’s heart flutters with an emotion he can’t define. Are soulmates necessarily romantic? Can angels even feel attraction like that? Why  _ him _ , when he was destined to be who he was, an abomination in the eyes of heaven? But Castiel’s eyes on his push all the thoughts from his mind, and he just acts, leaning in close until his lips are hovering over Castiel’s. “Something new. Something like this?” he says softly.

He waits for Castiel to pull away, to tell him that he’s mistaken. That the ‘something new’ he was referring to was a different sensation entirely, that he had made up everything about being soulmates. This was some kind of practical joke.

But Castiel doesn’t move. His breathing has stopped entirely, and his eyes are focused intently on Sam’s. Sam’s hand slides up to rest on the nape of Castiel’s neck, and—

Sam kisses Castiel. This is… Different. He’s never felt this way when he’s kissed anyone before. The rational part of his mind acknowledges that he doesn’t really know Castiel, not yet. But there’s a part of him deeper down that tells him that he knows Castiel better than he knows himself. He knows, at the very least, that this is  _ right _ , this is what it’s supposed to be like, this is who he needs. It’s new and familiar all at once, and…

Castiel breaks the kiss and steps back, away from Sam’s touch. His wings start to wrap around himself slightly, shielding him from Sam. “This isn’t right,” he says, but he sounds torn.

“Why?” Sam says. Everything about it feels right, and if what Castiel is saying is true, that they’re soulmates—

“It’s forbidden,” Castiel says. “A relationship like this between an angel and a human, even soulmates.”

“I get it,” Sam says, and he does, even though he wants to say  _ Who cares? _ But Castiel is an angel. He has a higher purpose, one that he can’t fulfill with one insignificant human holding him back. Sam smiles weakly. “It’s okay.”

“I’m sorry, Sam. I wish—“

The lock on the room’s door clicks open. Cas’s eyes widen. His wings begin to flap, and then he’s gone in an instant.

The door opens. “Hey, Sammy,” Dean says. Dean notes the shocked expression on Sam’s face. “Something happen while I was gone?”

Sam considers not telling Dean. It’s something he wants to keep to himself.

But he needs advice, and he needs reassurance. And Castiel is still Dean’s angel, so he almost feels like he needs permission, too.

“It was Castiel,” Sam finally says.

“Cas?” Dean asks, raising his eyebrows. “Here?”

“Yeah.”

“What was he doing here?”

“He…” Sam touches his lips where Castiel had kissed him. “We…”

“Spit it out,” Dean says.

“I kissed him.”

Dean’s mouth drops open. “You  _ what? _ ”

Sam tries to sort out the events of the past few minutes, but he’s flustered and they’re jumbled up in his brain. “He’s been following me.”

“Yeah, I’m still trying to process that you kissed him,” Dean says.

Sam looks up at Dean. “He said…” _ He said that we’re soulmates _ . “He said that I made him feel something new, and then we… kissed. And then he said it was forbidden and left.”

Dean sits down on the bed, eyes wide. “Whoa. That’s really something.”

“Is that okay?” Sam asks.

“What do you mean, ‘Is that okay?’” Dean says. “Are you asking if I mind that you want to fuck a guy? Because the answer is no, Sam. I don’t care which way you swing.”

Sam shakes his head. “No, I mean—You have a bond with him. After what he did for you. I shouldn’t interfere with that.”

“No, he’s—“ Dean sighs. “Maybe he’s not a dick, like I originally thought. Well, not as much of a dick as I originally thought. But  _ I’m _ not going to make out with him. And hopefully he’s not going to make out with me, so—“ Dean grins. “You’re in the clear.”

Sam rolls his eyes, but then frowns. “I’m just wondering… I feel guilty.”

“Guilty?” Dean asks. “This is the twenty-first century, Sam, you don’t have to feel guilty for your gay thoughts.”

“Dean.” Sam sighs. “You know what he said when he first met me. ‘The boy with the demon blood.’ He’s an  _ angel _ , Dean. What if I’m corrupting him?”

“Who cares? Dude’s got a stick up his ass. He needs a little corruption.”

Sam lets out a huff. “No, that’s not— I mean, what he said: ‘it’s forbidden.’ I just don’t want him to get hurt, or excommunicated from Heaven, or worse.”

Dean shrugs. “He’s a grown-ass man. Angel. Whatever. He’s had a few millennia on this earth. He can take care of himself.”

Dean’s right. Castiel  _ can _ take care of himself. He’s an angel—he can see the big picture. He’ll do what needs to be done so he can do his work. He’ll stay away from Sam unless it can’t be avoided. 

Sam feels a tight pain in his chest at the thought. He wants to see Castiel again. He has to.

  * • ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••



After they’re finished with the hunt, Sam and Dean split up to try to stop the breaking of two more seals on opposite sides of the country. “I know you don’t like splitting up,” Bobby tells them. “But all the hunters in my phone book are busy, so you boys are the only ones who can take care of it.”

Sam lies awake his first night on his own, staring at the ceiling of his dark motel room. It’s selfish, but he wishes he could see Castiel again, now that Dean’s not around to interrupt.

How would he even get Castiel’s attention? It’s not like he has the angel on speed dial. He thinks back to an angel prayer he’d memorized when he was a kid, when he thought that  _ someone _ in Heaven might take him away from a life he didn’t want. He recites it in his mind, the words coming easily from the dozens of repetitions he’d done when he was younger.  _ Angel of God, my guardian dear, to whom God's love commits me here, ever this day be at my side, to light and guard, to rule and guide.  _

He wonders if Castiel’s heard it before.

He idly runs through other prayers he remembers until he starts to fall asleep.

“Sam,” a gravelly voice says, just as he’s on the brink of falling asleep, and he bolts upright, heart racing.

Castiel is standing at the foot of his bed, watching him, barely visible except for his outline and the slight shimmer of his wings.

“Jesus,” Sam says. He runs a hand through his hair and swings his legs over the side of the bed.“What are you doing here?”

“I heard your prayer.”

“What?” Sam asks. He feels heat rise to his cheeks.

“You see me as your guardian?”

“What?” Sam says again, dumbly. “No, it’s just—it’s just a prayer I memorized when I was a kid. That’s it.”

“Hm.” Castiel sits down next to Sam. “I could be your guardian, if you wish. Nothing more, but I could offer that at least.”

Sam’s heart beats fast at the thought of Castiel as his guardian angel. He smiles. “Thanks for the offer, but I can take care of myself.”

Castiel nods. “I know you can. You’re strong, for a human. One of the strongest.”

Sam laughs, but after a moment his smile fades. “Why are you really here? You didn’t have to come when you heard my prayer.”

Castiel doesn’t reply, doesn’t look at Sam.

“Castiel?”

It takes Castiel a moment to respond. “I’ve been having… doubts. About Heaven. About the rules. About the mission I’ve been given.” He looks up at Sam, finally. “About what’s actually right or wrong.”

Sam searches Castiel’s eyes, not understanding what Castiel is trying to say.

“I can’t disobey heaven,” he says, but it’s not really a statement—he doesn’t sound sure.

“I know,” Sam says. “You should just go. Try to forget about me. I’m not worth it.”

“I  _ can’t _ forget about you, Sam,” Castiel says. He sounds frustrated. “I’ve tried. Since I met you, I’ve tried. But every part of me keeps pulling me back to you, I don’t want it, and I’ve tried to stop it, but here I am.”

Sam’s breath catches.  _ Every part of me keeps pulling me back to you. _ Sam had felt the same way. Wanting Castiel, always, even when he knew it wouldn’t—couldn’t—happen.

“So what do we do now?” Sam says.

Castiel takes a deep breath. Sam starts to think he’s not going to answer. “We hope Heaven forgives me for my sins,” Castiel finally says, and then his lips are on Sam’s, and Sam’s mind goes blank.

It feels urgent, this time. Like he needs to get as much of Castiel as he can before he loses him again. He runs his hands through Castiel’s hair, down his neck to his shoulders, starts to push off Castiel’s trenchcoat. Castiel tugs it off the rest of the way as they keep kissing. Castiel is wearing too many layers, is all Sam can think, as one after the other articles of clothing come off, too slowly. Sam just wants all of Castiel, all of him, now, and it looks like that’s what he’s going to get.

With Castiel’s shirt off, his wings unfurl and stretch out. Sam reaches out towards one of them. “Can I…?”

Castiel nods and shifts his wing closer to Sam. Sam places a hand on the ridge of the wing, just where it starts to arch up over his shoulder. The feathers are soft under his hand, the structure of the wing beneath firm. Castiel closes his eyes at the touch. Sam strokes his palm along the top of the wing, smoothing down the dark, shimmering feathers, and Castiel shudders, his lips parting slightly.

“You like that?” Sam says softly. He runs his hand through the feathers on the underside of the wing and Castiel breathes in sharply, pleasure crossing his features. Sam grins. He hadn’t expected that reaction, but there’s a lot he could do with this.

He wraps an arm around Castiel’s waist, and Castiel flaps his other wing slightly, causing a slight breeze to blow over them both and ruffle their hair. Sam keeps the other hand buried in Castiel’s feathers as he kisses Castiel again, occasionally eliciting a moan when he lightly runs his hand against the underside of Castiel’s wing.

Castiel wraps his wings around both of them until the light is blocked out, both of them wrapped in the silky blackness of Castiel’s wings. Sam feels the wings at his back, pushing him closer to Castiel, and smiles against Castiel’s lips.

  * • ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••



They lay in bed afterwards, facing each other. Castiel slowly stretches out a wing and drapes it over Sam, and when Sam doesn’t object, he leaves it there. It’s soft and smooth and warm and it feels almost unreal, being here with him. With an angel.

“Was that good?” Castiel asks.

Sam smiles. “Beyond good.” He frowns. “That was your first time?”

Castiel nods. “Like I said, it’s forbidden.”

“Was it worth it?”

Castiel doesn’t respond, but he smiles lightly. Sam rests his hand on Castiel’s face and runs his thumb over Castiel’s lips. 

Then it hits him. He drops his hand and scoots back, propping himself up on an elbow. Castiel withdraws his wing in alarm. “Oh my God,” Sam says.

“What?” Castiel asks.

“Your vessel,” Sam says. “He can’t—“

“He’s not here,” Castiel says.

Sam furrows his brow. “What do you mean?”

Castiel lets out a long breath. “It’s rare, but sometimes when a possessed vessel undergoes extreme trauma, the human soul goes to heaven while the angel stays behind.”

“Extreme trauma?”

“There was… a skirmish, several months ago. The other angels were able to heal me and the body, but the soul was lost.”

“Oh.” Sam tries not to think of any image including both  _ Castiel _ and  _ extreme trauma. _

“It’s just me in here, now.”

Sam knows he should probably still feel uncomfortable, but he’d already been down this path before, with Ruby. He pushes the image of her from his mind as soon as it appears, refocusing on Castiel. “Hm. So if it’s just you…” Sam leans down and gives Castiel a light kiss on the lips. “It’s okay to do that?”

“Yes,” Castiel breathes. “More than okay.” His wing curls around Sam again.

“Maybe we do some more, then.”

  * • ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••



This hunt—the prevention of another seal breaking—is taking a while. He’d only been given vague information by the angels, so there’s a lot of research and following leads and asking around he has to do.

Castiel—Cas, now—visits him every couple of nights. Sam loves the sex—it feels like it’s sating a deep need inside him—but he loves the pillow talk just as much. Learning more about Cas, about angels, about Heaven. Some of it’s similar to what he’s expected. A lot of it’s different. And Cas himself…

“What do you really look like?” Sam asks one night. Cas is laying on his stomach on the bed, Sam sitting up next to him and massaging the base of Cas’s wings. It’s something Sam has found that Cas really, really loves, and Sam really, really loves the moans that touching the base of Cas’s wings elicits from Cas.

“I’m… very large, and very bright.”

“But I’ll never be able to see,” Sam says, thinking back to Pamela, her eyes burned out by seeing Cas’s true form.

Cas frowns. “No.”

“I can see your wings, though,” Sam says. He runs his hand through the feathers on the back of Cas’s wings, and Cas closes his eyes and lets out a hum of pleasure. “How?”

Cas blinks his eyes open again. “It’s… complicated. My wings don’t exist on  _ this _ plane of existence. But you can see them, because… how firm is your grasp on celestial quantum mechanics?”

Sam laughs. “You can’t dumb it down for me?”

“The point is that there are higher forces that are letting you see them. Because we’re connected.”

“Connected,” Sam repeats, tracing his fingers along the edge of Cas’s wings. Soulmates. He feels a pang of anxiety. No relationship in his life has ever ended well. After Jess… He doesn’t know what he would do if anything happened to Cas. Would it be worse, since they were soulmates? Like losing a part of himself?

“Cas… What will the angels do when—if—they find out?”

“They won’t find out,” Cas says firmly.

“But what if they do?” Sam says. “I mean, they’re angels, Cas. And neither of us are exactly low profile on heaven’s radar.”

Cas is silent for a moment. “I don’t know. Nothing good.”

Again Sam feels that guilt. There’s something corruptive, deep down inside him, something that will destroy Castiel.

“Maybe we should…” Sam takes a deep breath. “Maybe we should focus on our jobs. We’ve both got our roles to play, maybe we’re just distracting each other.”

Sam pulls his hand away as Cas tucks his wings comfortably against his back and rolls over. “You’re worried about me,” he states. Not a question.

“Of course I am, Cas. You’re…” He struggles to find the right word. “You’re important to me,” he settles on, but that doesn’t even come close to the gravity of how he feels.

“And you’re important to me,” Cas says. “I’ll do what Heaven asks of me. But I can’t give you up.”

Sam sighs. “Yeah, I don’t think I can give you up either,” he says softly. Here, with Cas… Of course there’s the stress of stopping the end of the world, but Sam feels happy and light when he’s with Cas, almost the happiest he’s been since Dean came back, and it makes it all bearable.

“We’ll just have to be careful,” Cas tells him.

“Yeah,” Sam says. “We will.” He doesn’t know what he’d do if he lost this.   
  


  * • ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••



“Why do you look so happy?” Dean asks when he picks Sam up in the Impala a week later.

“Hm?” Sam chews on his lip, wondering what he and Cas are going to do now that he’s back to sharing a motel room with Dean.

“Is it Cas?”

Sam’s jarred out of his thoughts by the name. “What?”

Dean cracks a smile and slaps Sam’s arm playfully. “Damn, it is! You finally get over your fear of being gay and make another move?”

Sam scoffs. “Seriously, Dean.”

“How far did you go this time? Second? Third?” A pause. “Homerun?”

“ _ Dean. _ ”

At Sam’s dismissiveness, Dean’s eyes widen and his mouth drops open. “I can’t believe this. My little brother, banging an  _ angel _ .”

“Just drive.”

Dean comes back to the motel that night with burgers and a small bag from a novelty store. He tosses the bag over to Sam.

“What…?” Sam starts to say. He pulls out a pair of socks with a wings-and-halo pattern on them. “Thanks?”

Dean grins at him. “It’s to put on the doorknob. You know, to let me know when you have your angel over.”

Sam lets out an exasperated breath and rolls his eyes, hurling the pair of socks back at Dean.

Dean might be going about this in the most immature way possible, but Sam’s glad that he’s supportive.

  * • ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••



Sam hasn’t seen Cas in a week, and he’s getting antsy. He waits until Dean’s asleep and then slips out of the motel room. He steps into an alcove in the exterior of the motel, in the shadow and out of sight of any passersby. 

He closes his eyes. “Castiel, my guardian dear, to whom God’s love commits me here—“

There’s a fluttering of wings, and when Sam opens his eyes, Cas is in front of him. It feels like a weight’s been lifted. Sam had no idea seven days could feel so long.

He pulls Cas close and kisses him, savoring the feeling. It had been too long.

“How’s your hunt?” Cas asks when he pulls away.

“We think it’s a ghoul,” Sam tells him. “How’s Heaven?”

Cas sighs and looks away. “More seals are being broken, still. It feels like a losing battle.”

Sam smiles faintly, takes Cas’s hand in his and gives it a reassuring squeeze. “We can stop it,” he says, hoping that it’s true. Lilith is the key.

“Castiel,” a voice says from deeper within the shadows of the alcove. Sam drops Cas’s hand immediately and Cas steps quickly away, his wing brushing Sam’s arm as he moves. Who knows how long the watcher had been there, what he’d seen?

It’s Uriel. “What are you doing here?” Uriel asks him.

“Checking in with the Winchesters,” Cas says. “Updating them on the situation.”

“And that’s all, I’m sure,” Uriel says. He looks at Sam, the corner of his mouth turning down in a sneer of disgust, and Sam knows then without a doubt that Uriel had been there from the beginning, had seen them kiss. “This wasn’t an authorized visit,” Uriel adds.

“My apologies,” Cas says. “I’ll avoid acting without permission in the future.”

“Good,” Uriel says.

“Why are you here?” Cas asks him.

“I was sent to retrieve you. You’re needed back in Heaven, Castiel.” Cas nods.

Uriel disappears in a flutter of wings, and, with one last glance at Sam, Cas follows. 

Sam feels sick to his stomach. Nothing good is going to come of this.

  * • ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••



When he hasn’t seen Cas for a couple of days, Sam sends up a prayer.  _ Ever this day be at my side, to light and guard, to rule and guide. _ Nothing.

He tries again the next day, and the next. “Castiel, please, please hear me,” he begs going into day five.

“He’s probably just busy,” Dean says.

“Yeah, I guess,” Sam says, but he has a gut feeling Cas is in trouble. 

He needs to know what happened. “Uriel,” he finally prays, while Dean is out of the motel room. “Come here. Just come down here and tell me if he’s okay.”

“He’s fine, Sam,” a voice says from behind Sam. Sam spins around. Uriel. 

“Where is he?” 

“He’s in Heaven. Re-evaluating his priorities.”

“Can I see him?”

“No.”

Sam runs a hand down his face. “Please.”

“You thought you could cut yourself a slice of angel food cake, and there wouldn’t be any consequences?” Uriel laughs. “You corrupt everything you touch, Samuel. Every _ one _ . If we’re lucky, we can save Castiel before it’s too late.”

Sam clenches his fists. Uriel was right. This demon blood inside him… He wasn’t meant to be with an angel, soulmates or no. He was tainted, all the way down to his soul, and it had gotten Cas taken away—

No. This wasn’t him. This was the angels.  _ They _ were the ones keeping Cas away, re-educating him in the blind obedience they demanded.

“Fine,” Sam says. “And me? You’re going to let me off the hook again?”

“You still have a role to play, for now,” Uriel says. “It would do you well to keep quiet and play your part.” Uriel disappears. 

Sam sits down on the bed and puts his head in his hands. He’s going to fix this, somehow. They’d taken Cas away because of  _ him _ . He just needs the power to free Cas. And he’s capable of that, he knows he is. He just needs one more ingredient. And only one person can help him get it.

He makes a phone call.

The phone picks up after two rings. “Hey, Sam. It’s been a while,” Ruby says.

  * • ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••



It feels good to feel so powerful again, Sam thinks, as he licks the streams of blood flowing down Ruby’s arm.

It feels good to know that he can kill a demon with just a thought, he thinks, as Ruby kisses the blood from his lips.

And it feels good to know that if he keeps this up—if he continues getting stronger like this—he might even be able to go up against an angel. He might be able to get Cas back.  _ You just need to kill Lilith to get there _ , Ruby whispers as he presses her down onto the bed, his teeth grazing her neck.  _ One dead demon and you can get your angel back. _

  * • ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••



This is it. Lilith. Right in front of him.

Sam never got to see Cas again, and he’s sure he never will. He gave up everything to stop Lilith. He burned his bridges with Bobby and with Dean, and he knows that after draining the demon-possessed nurse, there’s no going back. He drank too much blood. He’s been changed forever.

Dean tries to stop him, but Sam’s come too far, sacrificed too much, to give up now. He kills Lilith.

And then the Apocalypse begins.

  * • ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••



“How did you find me?” Sam asks Dean softly, while they’re waiting on the plane that someone—God?—transported them to save them from Lucifer’s rising.

“Cas sent me.”

“Cas?” Sam says, his voice a little too loud. The passengers around them glare at him. “Cas?” he repeats, softer. “He came back?”

“He was working with the angels. They were planning this the whole time, trying to get you to kickstart the Apocalypse.”

Sam looks away. “But he helped you?”

Dean shrugs. “Got him to change his mind.”

“Where is he now?” 

“Dead, probably.”

Sam’s breath catches. “How?”

“Archangels. He kept them distracted while I went after you.”

Sam wants to pry more information from Dean, find out what happened to Cas and if he’s really dead or if he was just hurt and if maybe they could help him—but he can tell Dean’s not in the mood for talking.

“Dean, I… I’m sorry.”

Dean looks at Sam and clenches his jaw. “I know you are.” His voice is cold and has a sense of finality. The discussion is over.

  
  
•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

Sam’s split with Dean, is working as a busboy at a bar now. He thought it was for the best, to give Dean some distance from him. To give himself some distance from any opportunity to monumentally fuck things up again. He knows he should clean up his mess, but he’d only make things worse if he tried.

So he keeps his head down, his mind busy, trying to keep away the pain and doubt and guilt. The raw ache inside him since he’d found out that Castiel was dead. Dead because of Sam.

He lies in his motel room that night, a couple of weeks into his time at the bar, staring up at the ceiling. This is the worst time of the day. When there’s nothing to do, when thoughts of everything he’s done and everything he’s lost crowds his mind.

_ Castiel, my guardian dear…  _ The words start to run through his mind out of habit. It’s something soothing he did when Cas had been taken back to Heaven. Cas had never responded, but it made Sam feel close to him anyway. He’d avoided praying recently, because how could he pray to someone he’d killed? How could he sully Cas’s memory like that?

Sam finishes his prayer and wipes away the tear that had slipped from his eye. He wishes so badly he could have talked to Cas, just once, before the end. Cas died knowing Sam had been drinking demon blood, and Sam would never be able to explain it to Cas, never be able to make him understand or make it right.

“Sam.”

Sam bolts upright.

He’s there, standing next to the bed, wings shimmering.

“Cas?” Sam asks, climbing out of bed. He can barely breathe.

“You prayed to me.”

“I thought you were dead.”

“I was.”

“What the hell happened? How are you back?” 

“I don’t know.”

Sam reaches out, places a hand softly on Cas’s cheek. “You’re real?”

Cas smiles, just slightly. “I’m real.”

Sam leans in and presses his lips to Cas’s. It’s been months, but they feel so familiar against his. He’s filled with warmth and love and relief and he’s so happy that Cas is back, here in his arms. Alive. Okay.

“I’m sorry,” Sam says, pulling back and resting his forehead against Cas’s. “I’m so sorry.”

“Me too,” Cas says.

“I missed you. I didn’t know if I’d ever see you again.”

“Heaven had some… severe punishments for my transgressions,” Cas says. 

Sam swallows. “If I hadn’t—“

“It’s not your fault,” Cas says. “I made my own choices. I chose you.”

“You shouldn’t have.” Sam steps back, looks away. “I started the Apocalypse. That’s on me.”

“Sam.” Cas reaches out and gently turns Sam’s head to face him again. “You were doing the best you could under the circumstances. We all thought killing Lilith was the right step. You couldn’t have known.”

“Ruby…” Sam says. “The demon blood…”

Cas is silent for a moment, thoughtful. “It was a dangerous path. But you won’t go there again. I won’t let you go there again.”

“But—“

“I forgive you,” Cas says. He takes one of Sam’s hands and intertwines their fingers. “Give Dean time. He’ll get there too.”

Sam nods, tears prickling at the back of his eyes. He doesn’t think he deserves it, but Cas isn’t going to change his mind, not on this. 

“What are we going to do now?” Sam says.

“I don’t know. Dean—I’ve already visited Dean. He’s Michael’s vessel.”

“What?” Sam asks, raising his eyebrows. It would make sense, considering the lengths the angels had gone to rescue him from hell, but the information still comes as a surprise.

“He’s protected from them, for now. And... “Cas places a hand on Sam’s chest. Sam gasps as there’s a sharp, painful sensation along his ribs, and then it fades in a second. “Now you’re protected too.”

“What was that?” Sam asks.

“Enochian sigils so the angels can’t find you. I carved them into your ribs.” Sam touches his ribs gingerly as Cas continues. “I’m going to look for God.”

“God?” Sam remembers Dean telling him what Castiel had told him—that God had been MIA for millennia, and the upset angels had decided to start the Apocalypse in his absence.

“We need to find him, to help fix what the archangels have orchestrated.”

Sam feels dread in the pit of his stomach. He doesn’t want to be apart from Castiel again. “How long is that going to take?”

“I don’t know,” Cas says, frowning thoughtfully. “Weeks, probably. Maybe longer.”

“But you’ll stay tonight, right?” He smiles unsurely. “To catch up?” 

“It’s an important task—“ Cas starts, but he stops when he sees Sam’s face fall. Cas tilts his head. “But I suppose it can wait until the morning.” He grins, and Sam’s filled with relief. 

“Good,” he says. He takes Cas’s face in his hands and kisses him. He’s not going to let him get away again.

Tonight’s the only thing that’s guaranteed for them in this world that’s coming to an end, but Sam takes his time undressing Castiel. He’s slow and gentle as he lays Cas back on the bed. Cas’s wings stretch out across the sheets and Sam runs his hands through the feathers, Cas breathing heavy at the sensation. Sam kisses along the top of Cas’s wing to his neck and then his mouth and he kisses Cas, deep. Tonight, the weight of the quickly collapsing world isn’t on his shoulders. Tonight, it’s just Sam, and Cas, and the love between them.

  * • ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••



When Sam wakes up in the morning, Cas is sitting on the side of the bed, fully dressed and just watching Sam.

Sam yawns and sits up. “How long have you been watching me sleep?”

“All night,” Cas says, without a trace of shame.

“Kind of creepy,” Sam says. He grabs his discarded t-shirt from the floor and tugs it on. 

Cas frowns. “It’s not—“ he starts to say, but Sam grips Cas’s tie and tugs him close so he can interrupt with a kiss. 

“I’m glad I have an angel to watch over me,” he says, releasing Cas’s tie and leaning back. The morning-after bliss fades as he thinks about why Cas is already dressed. “You’re leaving already?”

Cas nods.

Sam swallows and looks down. “Okay. Be safe. I wish I could help, but...” Sam shrugs helplessly. “I don’t think you’d want help from me.”

Cas slips his hand into Sam’s. He gives it a light, reassuring squeeze. “Sam,” Cas says, and Sam looks up and meets his eyes. “Take time to heal, but you’re not allowed to give up. It’s just us. We need you.  _ I _ need you.”

“I can’t,” Sam says, shaking his head. “I can’t trust myself.”

“You never will if you keep hiding,” Cas says. He presses a kiss to Sam’s forehead. “I’ll see you soon.” He smiles, and then in an instant, he’s gone.

The room feels bigger and colder without Cas. Sam immediately wants him back.

But at least he’s alive. Sam’s other half is out there, even if they’re not together right now, and right then and there Sam decides that it’s something worth fighting for. The world can’t end, not yet, not when there’s so much unexplored between him and his soulmate.

He grabs his phone from the nightstand and dials Dean’s number. Time to get back in the fight.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments and constructive criticism welcome :)


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